He really should have seen this coming. Arthur twisted around mid-air, narrowly avoiding a flaming tail that was desperately trying to gut him. Well, at least I had the Explosion spell ready when I got through the portal... Calling up some more magic, the wizard doused the flaming demon and blasted it to bits. Two down, two to go. … Where did they g- Pensive thoughts were quickly smashed out of the nation's skull as stars spewed across the backs of his darkened eyelids. Ah. Behind me, then. Feeling a heavy wetness trickle down the back of his white shirt, Britain scrambled to feet that refused to work properly. The world swam before his eyes, the demons multiplying in frightening numbers and then melding back together in a sickening kaleidoscope of color. Savage grins wavered across the practically dancing, morphing demons' faces. And then the ground seemed to be trying to hit him in the face. And it succeeded as his world, once again, faded to darkness.

Faolán felt his essence begin to fade around the edges. His soul wasn't going to want to inhabit this ragged and broken body for very much longer. Black eyes formed slits, the surrounding lids far too puffy and bruised to open farther. Even the dim light caused spears of pain to fly through his corneas, and the bird-man quickly closed them again. Torture couldn't even begin to describe what he felt. The dark hair was singed, and from the lightly smoking masses, skin bubbled and stank, blood seeping from damaged pores. Welts rose, stark red against faded black flesh. Once-delicate patterns were disrupted by fresh wounds, copper blood obscuring the lines even more. Each new breath that rattled his ragged lungs hurt worse than the last. Was this what dying felt like? A slight pressure filled the back of his head as another presence entered Faolán's mind.
"Hi, Arthur." Are you alright? The bird-man chuckled, a deep, raspy laugh that practically hissed out of his agonized chest.
"I've been better. How're things on your end?" Well, I was jumped at the entrance, just like last time, but they didn't take me to the Overlord for once, so I'm in the mines. On my way over right now. Are there any guards around? Fighting to keep his stinging eyes open, the dark-haired man quickly glanced around.
"Nah, not at the moment. Can you get out of my head now? I hurt plenty without you taking up space that my brain needs." Sorry. Think you can make it? Faolán took a mental inventory of where his essence was flaking away. The blond's presence faded away.
"Don't think so."

Arthur was worried. He had only been with the bird-man for a short period of time, but the guy didn't seem like his normal self. The green-eyed man blew on his fingers, wishing that he had his bag on him. Unfortunately, the demons had made off with it. And destroyed it, unless they had been lying to him when he woke up. Which they might have; demons had a terrible habit of lying.

In any case, England had to get to Faolán before something else happened to the poor man. Rubbing sweat out of his eyes, the nation slipped away from his cell (the only place he was allowed besides the tunnels) and tried to find the way out. It'd be great to know that before he attempted a life-threatening, daring rescue.

It was no use; whenever he got close, the guards sent him back. There were three tunnels where they did that, which could mean three exits, but it could also mean three extremely painful ways to die, and Britain was certainly not interested in those scenarios. He pulled back into the shadows, bumping his still-bleeding head on the rock behind him. Silently cursing and physically doubling over, the blond pressed a shaky hand to the blunt trauma that made his eyes water relentlessly. Of course. Just my bloody luck. Waiting for the pain and nausea to subside, the nation carefully regained his footing, straightening into a standing position. Am I really in any condition to fight? A sideways glance at his dripping hand and he decided that no, he really was in no way to be fighting.

Reviewing his mental map of the surrounding tunnels, Arthur set off in the direction that Faolán was in. The poor man's blip on the blond's mental map was fading in intensity as time wore on, and the nation chewed at his lip. Crossing his fingers, he hoped that things would turn out alright. He had done so much, and tried so hard. Failure was a frightening option, one that would most likely end in blood and gore.

"Hey, you! Only lost causes that way! Work is down this way. Follow me." England glared at the grotesque demon in front of him.

"Excuse me, sir, but I was unaware of what a lost cause was. Could please enlighten me?" While the thing did a terrible job of explaining (why the Hell would a lost cause involve cotton candy for Pete's sake?), the blonde was able to sneak past and get most of the way down the hall before the same demon caught up with him.

"Hey! Slave! I've told you that this is only for-" Arthur cut the slimy guard off by elbowing it in the face, causing silvery blood to ooze from it's nose while the fell over and rolled around on the dusty ground for a few moments. The nation sprinted away, not wanting to mince words or waste his much-needed magic reserves. Following the mental map, Britain was able to find the correct door (only after opening the wrong one resulting in having to incapacitate three more demons and what appeared to be a relatively large insect of sorts). Taking a breath, the blond shoved the bulky stone door open, revealing a limp figure curled up in a cage that was eleven sizes too small.

"H-hey. Faolán?" The nation inched closer, but the bird-man didn't respond.

"You can get up now, I'll get you out of here in a jiffy, alright? Faolán?" England rested a hand on the now obviously lifeless body. It was cold, but the endlessly dark eyes were still open, staring forever at a ceiling that had imprisoned him for years.

Arthur swiped tears of frustration out of his emerald eyes as the back of his head throbbed painfully. I didn't make it in time. Gods damn it, I shouldn't have loligagged so bloody much! There wasn't anything more he could do for Faolán, but he could still get the other souls out. Hopefully alive.